Harry Potter and the Serpent's Curse
by Firith Ithil
Summary: Harry is returning to Hogwarts for his final year. But will he leave when he learns about a series of deadly curses he must reverse? And what will happen when he meet a beautiful Beauxbatons transferee with a mysterious past involving Voldemort himself?


Disclaimer: All characters from the Harry Potter book series belong to JK Rowling. I have a few characters that I made up and those beong to me. Dominique Rober belongs to Alayna Nagurny.

Author's Note: This story begins with us assuming that it had always been Harry's intention to return to Hogwarts.

CHAPTER 1

The Mystery at the Burrow

Harry Potter waited silently in the gloom of his empty bedroom. Three more hours until midnight. In three more hours Harry would become an adult in the wizarding world.

The reason that Harry's bedroom was empty was that he was moving out as soon as his clock struck twelve. As soon as he came of age, the Dursleys could no longer offer him protection (not that they would want to). He would be free of them forever. He was planning on staying with the Weasleys, the family of his best friend Ron, over the rest of the summer holidays. Then, after he graduated, Harry would live in the house he had inherited from his late godfather, Sirius Black, at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

Harry got up and walked around. Sleep was out of the question, and he didn't feel like reading his spell books. On his bed lay a small suitcase that contained nearly everything he owned. He reached for the suitcase and unlocked and opened it. Harry began to double-check the contents to make absolutely sure he hadn't forgotten anything.

Along with his clothes and school things, Harry had packed the Marauders' Map, a picture of his dead parents, a pocket sneak-o-scope, a broomstick servicing kit, a pair of miss-matched socks for Dobby the house-elf, and the first Chocolate Frog card he had ever opened. On it was a picture of Albus Dumbledore, who was, in Harry's opinion, the greatest wizard of all time before he had been killed by Severus Snape the previous year.

The only things that Harry had not packed were in the far corner of the room. His snowy owl, Hedwig, cooed gently in her cage. She had learned not to squawk loudly while the Dursleys were anywhere nearby. Beside her was Harry's Firebolt. He had reasonably decided not to apparate- He was under the impression that Hedwig would not count the experience as a 'fond memory'. The last thing was Harry's invisibility cloak. Harry's father had left it to him. He would need it for the midnight flight.

The seconds ticked by, almost too slowly to bear. After what seemed like years, the hours ticked down to minutes, and the minutes to seconds. At eleven fifty-nine, Harry began to grow anxious about his journey. There had lately been numerous reports in the _Daily Prophet _of Death Eater sightings in the sky. However, he had little time to worry, because a soft _beep-beep_ announced that Harry Potter had reached adulthood.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

"Who is it?" asked Mr. Weasley when he heard a knock at her door two hours later.

"Mr. Weasley? It's me, Harry." replied the shivering figure outside.

"Oh! Harry dear!" cried Mr. Weasley, relieved. He opened the door. "Come in! Come in! We have very important matters to discuss." and he hurried in out of the cold. Harry followed.

As Harry entered the brightly lit foyer, he noticed that Mr. Weasley's face was bright and happy…almost ecstatic. He privately wondered what the 'important matters' could be.

The kitchen door was closed. Mr. Weasley stopped when he reached it and turned to face Harry.

"Wait here." he commanded. "I must speak with Mrs. Weasley and…" here he paused, and thought for a moment before starting his sentence again. "I must speak with Mrs. Weasley before I can give you the news." he pointed to a chair. Harry sat obediently.

Mr. Weasley disappeared into the kitchen and closed the door behind him. Harry didn't mean to listen but he had told him to sit so close to the door…

"Molly, he's been through so much already! I don't see why we can't tell him tonight!" came Mr. Weasley's voice. He sounded tired.

"Because he'll be able to take it better when he's rested!" came the clear, sharp voice of Mrs. Weasley.

Then came a third, male voice. Harry couldn't make out what the mysterious guest was saying. He wasn't shouting, like Mrs. Weasley, on the contrary, all Harry could hear was a very soft murmur.

"Alright!" said Mr. Weasley in exasperation. "If you're both against me!" and he left the kitchen to confront Harry once again.

"It appears," he said angrily "that you will have to wait until tomorrow for your news." and without another word he shooed Harry upstairs to join Ron.

Harry dragged his bag up several flight of stairs until he reached the top floor where Ron's bedroom was located.

He reached for the door and knocked on the nose of a Chudley Cannon quidditch player whose poster was spell-o-taped on the door. Ron answered.

"Harry!" said the red-head with a broad grin. "Happy birthday mate!"

Ron was a bit less skinny and lanky than he had been before, but he was taller than ever. He now topped Harry by a full head.

"What have you been eating!" Harry joked as he stared up at his friend.

At that moment, the door opened, and a much smaller red-headed figure emerged. Something about Ginny looked different to Harry.

"Ron? Have you seen my-?" she spotted Harry. "Oh. It's you, is it?" she said coldly, and she left without another word.

"I guess she's still…upset then?" said Harry sadly.

"Bloody hell!" exclaimed Ron. "That was polite! You should see her when you're _not_ here!"

Suddenly, Harry realized what had been different about Ginny. "Ron!" he cried out. "Ginny! Her eyes! They're…blue!"

"Yeah." said Ron angrily. "She's a metamorphmagus."

"Where?" cried Harry."How?"

"Ask her!" bellowed Ron. Harry had known his friend long enough to know that he was jealous. There was a moment of awkward silence between them. Ron broke it by saying:

"Oh, yeah! I got you a birthday present!" He reached under his bed and pulled a messily wrapped package out.

There turned out to be several things inside: a quill shaped like a firebolt, a package of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and a practice snitch that you could never lose because it always found you after an hour.

Harry let go of the snitch and let it fly around the room. Pigwidgeon chased after it,indignant that another flying creature had invaded his territory.

"This is brilliant!" cried Harry. He firmly believed that Ron's budget couldn't have allowed for a better gift.

While Harry and his best mate munched on the sweets, they voiced their worries for Hermione.Harry hadn't heard from her all summer, andhehad sent countless owls, all of which had returned with the letters untouched. Now that she wasn't there, Harry realized how much he missed his bossy friend.

"You know," said Ron thoughtfully through a mouthful of beans (the mix of flavors was quite nasty). "It's weird. She usually responds to my letters right away. I haven't heard from her since..." he pulled a letter out of a drawer "...June fifteenth."

"That _is_ weird." said Harry, his mind far away. He noticed right away that the letter was wrinkled and dirty; signs that it had been read quite a good deal. A sudden pang of jealousy flooded Harry's mind. Hermione hadn't written to _him_ at all. He secretly wondered what Ron's letter was about.

His jealousy was instantly dissolved however, when he saw the look of pain and worry on Ron's face. "Ron," he said softly. "She's fine. Hermione knows how to get herself out of a fix."

"I know." said Ron slowly. To brighten things up,Harry told Ron about what he had overheard in the kitchen.

"I knew it!" he shouted triumphantly. "I_ knew_ there was someone else in the house! Yesterday, when the doorbell rang," he explained. "Mum and Dad shooed us upstairs. Fred-he and George are taking a vacation from work-he says he caught a glimpse of the fellow. Says he was wearing a pink cloak...with the hood up."

"Do you reckon he was a Death Eater?" asked Harry quietly.

"'Course not!" cried Ron indignantly. "Mum and Dad would never let one in the house! And besides, Death Eaters don't wear pink!"

"Well, we'll find out tomorrow." said Harry and he yawned. The two boys were soon snoring.

Meanwhile, in her room, Ginny Weasley was not sleeping. She was thinking about Harry. And rather tearfully at that.

* * *

Authors note: Yay! my first chapter. How does it sound? Please review!


End file.
